Some Sunny Day
by CastleWriter16
Summary: She ran through it in her head again on the way to the precinct: the dimly lit alleyway in the dead of winter, folded hands, closed eyes, red hair bleeding into the snow. Their latest victim hits too close to home for Castle and he just can't let it go. (Ignoring the story arc from the end of season 6 - season 7, although Castle and Beckett are married.)
1. Chapter 1

**Some Sunny Day**

* * *

_We'll meet again,  
don't know where, don't know when,  
but I know we'll meet again, some sunny day._

* * *

Castle stared at the body that lay frozen in the slush on the sidewalk.

Red hair.

The coffees in his hands fell with a crash and the crime scene technicians and police officers all jumped, everyone turning to look at him.

He could only see the body, the woman, the red hair.

"Beckett," he croaked.

She was immediately there, rising swiftly to her feet and pushing him back by the shoulders, out of the alley, down the block, around the corner—and out of the immediate crime scene.

But he still saw it. Young woman, dead in front of the dumpster, hands folded over her chest like she'd been laid out in a funeral pose, lips a terrifying dusty blue.

Red hair.

"Beckett," he gasped.

"Castle, I told you to stay home," she whispered. Her eyes were searching his but all he saw was that body. Long-limbed woman, red hair, her freckles so dark against the blue-tinged skin, dark like stains.

Frozen in the inch of snow scattered over the city. Rope marks on her neck. Familiar pose. "It's gonna be that same rope—"

"Castle, don't. Lanie would twist your ear for even thinking what you're thinking right now. We can't make a conclusive—"

"Don't you dare," he hissed. "Don't you dare give me that. You know exactly what happened to her. She's—"

"We don't know."

"She's a redhead, Kate. She's - she's Alexis's age, isn't she? That's why you told me to just sleep in this morning."

Her mouth opened and closed again, damning.

He felt his hands shaking. "You and I both know what this is. Who killed her. We don't need to wait for Lanie to confirm what we already know."

"Castle—" she warned.

"It's Jerry Tyson." Castle closed his eyes, pressed a hand over his mouth as if he could keep it down. But he couldn't. "He's back. Triple Killer is back."

* * *

In the time it took Beckett to drive Castle back to the loft (and convince him to _stay_ at the loft), Lanie had already released the body and Kate had lost the opportunity to go back through the scene herself, away from Castle and the uniforms and the CSUs snapping pictures.

She ran through it in her head again on the way to the precinct: the dimly lit alleyway in the dead of winter, folded hands, closed eyes, red hair bleeding into the snow. But she didn't get a good look at the bruising from the rope before Castle showed up and damn near contaminated her crime scene with coffee.

Still. It didn't add up. Red hair. Red hair all these months later.

Her phone lit up with Castle's picture and she sighed. "Castle. It's not even 7am. Go back to bed."

He ignored her and plowed right through. "Are you at the precinct?"

"In the parking garage," she muttered, twisting behind her to snag her tote from the back seat. "Did you get a hold of Alexis?"

"Yeah. She's fine. A little annoyed at my phone call, but fine." Kate locked her car and lumbered through the early morning shadows; the sun hadn't quite started to rise yet, but it was much lighter than the alley had been an hour and a half ago.

"Good. I should go, see what the boys found out about our vic." Kate yawned as she stepped on the elevator and hit the button for homicide, wished this was a different case so Castle could come and make her coffee.

"I want a detail on her, Kate. You too," Castle said quietly, as if that would make his request less ridiculous.

"NYPD is not going to put a detail on your daughter because of a hunch, Castle." Ryan and Esposito looked in her direction as she came out of the elevator, brows furrowed. She rolled her eyes and headed for the break room, bag still slung over her shoulder.

"But—"

"I have to go, Castle. I'll call you later."

Kate set her phone on the countertop and went through the motions of making a double shot of espresso. When she reappeared in the bullpen a few minutes later, Esposito was just hanging up his phone.

"Lanie's got something."

* * *

"I can't tell you too much until this body's fully thawed, but there's something I think you should see." Lanie swiped a folder from the countertop and pulled out several photos, held the first one up for the three of them to look at. "Detective Johnson investigated this case at the beginning of the week, open and shut, pinned it on a druggie."

Kate uncrossed her arms and reached across Jane Doe's body to take the picture. The boys crowded around her as Lanie continued. "Pearlmutter did the autopsy, ruled COD as asphyxiation. The rope marks around this girl's neck match the width and pattern around your Jane Doe's neck." There was more than just the rope that matched. The girl from Johnson's case looked to be in her late teens, early twenties, long red curls, freckles scattered across her cheeks, hands folded over her stomach.

Peaceful. Innocent.

"So they're connected," Esposito said. "And Johnson's got the wrong guy. If she was found at the begin—"

"Hold on. This room setup looks familiar." Kate nodded in agreement; there was something there, something she was missing. She ran through it again: red hair, freckles, eyes closed, funeral pose on the motel bed—

"It should." Lanie handed over another stack of crime scene photos. "These are from the fall of 2010."

Ryan sighed. Kate caught on just as he started to speak. "The motel. Jerry Tyson's motel room."

Kate tried to swallow down the question waiting on the tip of her tongue, couldn't stop herself. "Is the rope—"

"The rope matches 3XK's victims, Beckett. Same pattern, same width. It's a mass-produced brand, so it's possible—"

Kate shook her head. "There's no way that's a coincidence."

"Copy-cat?" Esposito offered.

"I—" Kate's phone cut her off. She rolled her eyes, but it wasn't Castle like she'd thought. "Beckett." She listened as a rookie rattled off an address, a place she already knew.

"Columbia," Kate said in response to Esposito and Ryan's questioning eyes. "They found a body at Columbia."

* * *

When she didn't call back, when she didn't show up for lunch, when she didn't answer his text messages, he started to panic.

Really and truly.

Panic.

He went to find her.

At the 12th, it was LT whom he finally cornered. The officer sent a sideways look out across the bullpen, but Castle crowded in on him, pushed for more, more, the details.

"She's at Columbia. There's a body."

_What_?

He was at his daughter's college in a matter of minutes, coffee forgotten on Beckett's desk where he'd left them both, no doubt going cold. Castle was. His fingers were numb in the brisk air as he power-walked through the quad and jumped the low chain and hauled it up the path.

The crime scene was a mob. College students clustered around the barricades, moving and pushing, crying, professors had taken up residence at strategic points, police officers stern and bulky in their winter uniforms.

Castle was recognized and not even stopped as he by-passed the wooden sawhorse, and he hustled through the slush and mud towards the dark, skeletal tree in the center of the action.

Beckett separated from a dark knot of medical examiner's people, caught him by his arms. Held him.

"Beckett," he growled.

"It's not her. It's not Alexis. Alexis is here, but it's not her."

Something terrible clawed in his throat and came out, a noise like grief relieved, and Beckett did the unthinkable. She wrapped her arms around his neck and went up against him, their coat buttons catching.

"It's okay," she husked at his ear. "I promise she's okay. She's here, talking to Lanie. She knew the girl."

"Oh, _no_—"

"Come with me?"

He squeezed his eyes shut for an instant, clutching her coat in his fists, and then he finally let her go. "Yeah. Yeah, I need to see my baby girl."

Her arms dropped from him, but she took him by the hand, her teeth on her bottom lip, and it was that so-careful concern, that obvious regard, that told him it was bad.

It really was Tyson.

The Triple Killer was back.

* * *

**Thank you to all of you that nudged me to jump back into the world of fanfic, and a special thank you to the always lovely Laura, who edited and encouraged me and listened to my senseless rambling as I worked through the beginning of this story. You are truly a blessing, magical unicorn. **


	2. Chapter 2

Castle sighed and drummed his fingers against Beckett's desk, resisting the urge to check his watch again. He was fairly certain that while it felt like an eternity, it really had only been twenty minutes. Tops. Alexis was fine. Kate and Ryan were with her in the interview room. And she was fine.

He found himself continually drawn to the pictures stuck to the murder board, red hair so stark against everything else. So much like Alexis. He wouldn't tell Kate that though; he knew he was only one or two remarks away from getting himself completely benched. The fact that she let him come back with them from the crime scene was a miracle.

Their abandoned coffee was still sitting on the corner of Kate's desk. Throwing it away would require walking past the interview lounge, and he didn't think he could keep from eavesdropping then. He didn't want to eavesdrop. He wanted to do this for his daughter, this one small thing: allow Alexis to talk to Kate uninterrupted in the hopes of discovering something that got them closer to Tyson.

"Mr. Castle." Gates stood in the doorway of her office, hand on her hip, glasses dangling from her fingertips. "Let's chat." Castle started to get up, but Gates shook her head and sat down in Beckett's chair instead. "Given the personal stab this case appears to be taking at you and your daughter, I think it'd be best for you to stay out of the precinct until we apprehend Tyson unless otherwise specified."

Castle's mind immediately spun scenarios in which Kate was here and he was not and Tyson showed up. The need to protect her was just as strong as it was with Alexis.

"I've stationed a team at your building, and there will be a detail on you and Alexis. I've also asked uniforms to escort your mother home from her retreat."

"What about Beckett—"

"Mr. Castle, this is cop central. Beckett will be fine." Gates sat back in Beckett's chair, hands folded in her lap, as if daring him to contradict her. But he couldn't help it.

"Tyson snuck in and out of here two years ago, no problem."

"Yes. Well. Quite a lot has changed since then, Mr. Castle. And Jerry Tyson will not set foot in my precinct uncuffed again. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever." He wished that the certainty in her voice was enough.

"What about when she's walking to the parking garage? Or in a dark alley following a lead? Or driving to a new crime scene?"

Gates raised her eyebrows, leaned forward on her elbows. "And what do you think your wife would say about your doubts in her ability to fend for herself?" Castle opened his mouth and found no words. "Beckett is one of the best I have. She's armed, she's trained, she's smart. She'll be fine."

"Do you have a detail on her?"

"Forgive me, Mr. Castle, but this case seems to revolve around you and your daughter. Tyson is playing games with you, not Beckett. If he wanted to toy with her, I'm sure we would know by now." _No_, he wanted to say. Tyson would build up the anticipation. He would never leave clues for Kate. "Detectives Ryan and Esposito will escort her home and she will not go anywhere without back-up. That's the best I can do right now."

"But Captain—"

"I need to go update the Mayor. Goodnight, Mr. Castle."

Castle tilted his head back and closed his eyes, heard the door to Gates' office close. He'd have to make some calls, hire his own security for Kate. It'd be difficult to get a good team together on such short notice.

"Castle." Beckett stood in the doorway of the interview lounge worrying her bottom lip. "C'mere."

* * *

Kate watched as Alexis' grief consumed Castle in a matter of moments. He dropped to his knees in front of his daughter, already murmuring soothing words like a second language.

Ryan closed the door behind them and stood at Kate's back. "Gates wants to meet in twenty," he whispered.

Kate nodded. "I want to walk them to the car. Can you check in with the uniforms at the loft?"

"Of course." Ryan disappeared into the bullpen and Kate turned her attention back to Castle. He'd manage to coax Alexis to uncurl into a sitting position, which was more than Kate had been able to do a few minutes ago.

Alexis had started to shut down after the first few questions and for the sake of their case, Kate had to keep pressing. It was too much. Kate had pushed too far. Never had she seen Alexis, so sweet and full of sunshine, look so wrecked.

Castle stood up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "She won't tell me anything."

Kate smoothed her hands over the lapels of Castle's jacket. "I'll go through it with you tonight."

"You're not coming home with us?"

She shook her head. "I have to meet with Gates and the boys, find all the connections, figure out our next step."

"How long will that take?"

Kate sighed. "I don't know, Rick. Hopefully not long."

She wished she could push the case off to another team; it was too terrifying to contemplate all the ways Tyson could ruin them, destroy the family they'd worked so hard to build. But she owed it to Castle. He knew without needing the evidence to corroborate and she'd dismissed him.

Kate was still working to lessen the pit of guilt unraveling in her stomach.

"Kate, look at me." He laced their fingers together. "We'll get through this."

"Yeah." She wasn't sure she was entirely convinced. Tyson wielded so much power over them all.

Alexis roused from the interview lounge couch and slid on her coat. Kate met her halfway to the door and wrapped her in a hug. "It's gonna be okay. We'll figure this out."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you—"

"Shh. You didn't know, Alexis. It's okay. It will be okay." Alexis smiled half-heartedly. "I'm gonna walk you out to the car. There's a team of uniforms watching the loft and another team assigned specifically to you."

Alexis nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course."

Castle came up behind the two of them and set his hands at Kate's shoulders. "Car's out front, Beckett."

"Okay. Let's go."

* * *

In last two hours, Beckett and the boys had constructed their most detailed murder board ever. It almost rivaled the one Kate had kept pinned up in her apartment with her mother's case. Exhausted, Kate sat back in her chair and finished off her third cup of coffee.

"Okay. Let's run through it one more time," Gates said, turning her attention to the white board. "We should all be on the same page if we're going to explain it to a task force tomorrow."

"Rachel Adamson, first victim. 21, red hair, blue eyes. Found in the motel room where 3XK got the drop on me and Castle. Detective Johnson has agreed to come in tomorrow and go over specifics." Ryan scrubbed a hand across his face and pointed to his legal pad. "In the original series of murders, 3XK murdered Rachel Gold. We believe Tyson intentionally picked a victim with the same first name."

"Good. Next."

Beckett walked over to the murder board and pointed at the photo in the middle. "Sara Matthews. 20, red hair, blue eyes. We found her in an alley frozen under the snow. I believe it is also worth noting that the alley is behind a diner I frequent with my father." Kate had held back in their initial case construction, but she found she couldn't ignore it. She was certain Tyson had picked that alley just for her. Gates seemed unsure of the pertinence of the information but nodded. "We're still trying to track down next-of-kin. Previously, 3XK murdered Sara Townsend. She was one of his first victims."

Beckett sat back down and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Esposito picked up with their last victim. "Emma Mitchell, 19. Red hair, blue eyes. She was found on Columbia's campus. This is arguably the most personal of all three victims because of her connection to Alexis Castle. Alexis told Beckett and Ryan that a strange man had been hanging around Emma in the last few weeks. Alexis never met the man, but she saw him pick Emma up last week and believes the man was Tyson based on physical description. We plan to meet with all of Emma's friends and go over campus security footage tomorrow."

"All of the victims died due to asphyxiation. The rope pattern is consistent with 3XK's victims, but just as before there's no trace evidence," Ryan added.

"And we think that he's done killing for the time being?" Gates asked.

"If he lives up to his namesake, he's hit his quota for the week."

* * *

"Yes, I know it's short notice, but it's important—"

The phone beeped. Castle sighed and stopped pacing, flopped back against the couch. He'd been on the phone with his security company for at least a half hour, checking on alarm systems and trying to put together a team for Kate. This was his third transfer, and as high up as he could get on the phone.

"Mr. Castle? I'm Jeff Connors, the head of this office. I understand you're trying to put together a team specifically for your wife."

"Yes. She's a cop. Detective, actually. And there's this serial killer and—"

"I know, Mr. Castle. Please slow down."

Castle wondered briefly what it must feel like to be so calm. "I need your best. I need a rotation of men to watch her at work and at home and all the places in between. I need her to be safe, Jeff."

"Hold on one moment, Mr. Castle." Castle exhaled and knocked back the rest of the scotch in the tumbler on the coffee table. It burned as it slid down his throat and he reveled in it.

The couch dipped next to him and Alexis leaned her head against his shoulder, said nothing. "Hey, sweetheart. You hungry?"

"I don't know if I can keep anything down. Stomach still feels sick."

Castle switched the phone to his other hand and tucked Alexis' hair behind her ear. Her face was still splotchy, but it was faint enough that he knew she'd not been crying for the entirety of the three hours they'd been home.

"Okay. I'll start you on some toast as soon as I'm done with this phone call."

Alexis nodded and curled her feet under her. She'd been making herself small all day. The crime scene, what he'd seen at the interview lounge, the car on the way home, and now sitting with him on the couch.

"Are you still there, Mr. Castle?"

"Yeah. Yes. I'm here."

"I've just consulted with a rep from our legal department, and there are a few things we should discuss before I can start assembling a team for you."

A consultation with legal could not mean good things.

"Have you coordinated anything with the NYPD? Do you have their permission for a private security detail to follow your wife at work?"

"No, not exactly—"

"And has your wife given her consent for this detail?"

"Not yet, but—"

"Then I'm sorry, Mr. Castle, but I can't help you."

Castle wanted to scream. He settled for pouring another shot of scotch. "I don't think you understand how urgent this is." He worked hard to keep his voice even.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Castle. My hands are tied. Fix those two things and then we can try to work something out. Have a good evening." The line went dead and Castle's body went still.

There was no one to protect her.

He wasn't allowed to do it himself, _couldn't_ do it himself. It would not be enough.

He could never be enough.

Jerry Tyson was too powerful.


	3. Chapter 3

Kate rolled her neck along her shoulders and brought a hand up to massage her sore muscles. She'd been bent over case notes for one hour too many, memorizing every detail surrounding Rachel Adamson and her murder. The connections had to run deeper, but Kate was having a hard time finding them under the mess of shoddy police work done on Detective Johnson's part.

Johnson was an older man edging closer and closer to retirement. He wore a suit to work every day, even in the summer. He worked a case or two here and there, and Beckett knew he would be displeased to find out he'd been wrong.

Oh, he'd been so wrong.

"Beckett." Kate startled, heart clattering in her ribcage. She spun on her heel and instinctively reached for her gun. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," LT said quickly. "Castle just called. He's worried sick."

"But it's only…" Kate opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out her cell phone, which she realized now had probably stayed on silent all night while she buried herself in the case. "2:16," Kate sighed, tapping on the notification for 5 missed calls from Castle. "I'm sorry, LT. I'm calling him now." He seemed satisfied with her answer and went back to his post.

She was such an idiot. This case was already hard enough on Castle, never mind not being able to reach his wife.

"Kate? Thank God. Are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, sitting back against the edge of her desk. "I'm so sorry, Rick. I got lost in the case notes and I didn't realize I'd stayed so much later than everyone else. I'm okay. I'm coming home. I'll be home."

Now that she wasn't immersed in details, the exhaustion was starting to seep in. Ryan and Esposito had both tried to talk her into calling it a night; even Gates had encouraged her to go home before she left around 9. But with everything running together, all sense of time was lost.

"No. Stay there. I'll come get you. I don't want you leaving by yourself." Kate pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

"Castle, I'll be fine."

"Please, Kate. Please let me come get you."

"You shouldn't leave Alexis."

"Alexis can't sleep anyway. She can ride along. Please, Kate. Promise me you'll stay there."

He sounded so terrified of what would happen if she didn't. "Okay. I'll stay."

* * *

Castle waited in the kitchen while Kate took Alexis upstairs, murmuring something to his daughter that he couldn't hear. He slid onto a bar stool and propped his elbows up on the counter, head in his hands.

It was exhausting to be continuously looking over his shoulder for Tyson; even with the surplus of security he felt vulnerable. It was as though Tyson was looming just out of sight, waiting for them to slip up so he could swoop in and torture them all. There was nothing Rick could do except wait and trust Kate to find Tyson first.

"She's asleep." Castle lifted his head; Kate ran a hand through her hair and sat down next to him.

"Thank you," he whispered, leaning over to kiss her temple. Kate sagged against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Let's get you to bed, Kate."

"Yeah," she sighed, rising sluggishly at his prompting. Castle slipped his hand through hers and led her into their bedroom, nudged her to sit at the end of the bed.

He sank to his haunches and began to unbutton Kate's blouse. "My mother should be back tomorrow night. The uniforms let her stay and finish up." His wife said nothing as he slid her shirt down her shoulders and pulled her arms out. "Kate?"

She exhaled and closed her eyes. "Mm. Sorry."

"Look at me, Kate." Castle framed her face and smoothed his thumbs across her cheekbones. "Oh, Kate, love, please don't cry."

"You were right, Castle. You were right and I didn't believe you—"

"Shhh. Okay. Okay. It's alright." Kate doubled over and Castle crawled up next to her on the bed. "Kate. We shot him. We watched him fall off that bridge. You had no reason to believe that he wasn't dead." The words sounded foreign in his mouth, because of course, of course it couldn't have been that easy, but that wasn't what Kate needed to hear.

"I had you, Rick. You knew. That should have been all I needed."

He was speechless. Maybe that should have been all she needed.

Kate's body shook and he spanned his palm between her shoulder blades. "Kate, take a deep breath. Just breathe. It doesn't matter, okay? It doesn't matter. We'll get through this."

She straightened abruptly and nodded, turning to crash into his chest. Castle enfolded her in his arms and dropped kisses to the crown of her head, dragging his fingers up and down the length of her spine.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair. "I love you, Kate."

* * *

Beckett dragged herself out of bed at 6:30, and as careful as she was not to jostle Castle, he groaned and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. "Stay."

Kate leaned over and cupped his cheek. "I'm going to get shower. I'll wake you up before I leave. Just sleep, Rick."

Castle threaded his fingers through her hair and guided her down, slanted his lips over hers. "Please don't go, Kate," he rasped, and it wasn't until she stood up that she saw the tears pooled in his eyes.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "Castle," she gentled, "I have to go in. We have to catch him. I need to work this case."

"You're not safe there. God, Kate, if anything happened to you…" he trailed off, closed his eyes, exhaled.

Kate had spent the last few hours pushing nightmares to the furthest corners of her mind, warding off thoughts of Tyson trapping her in a dark room, Nieman at his side with a scalpel. She didn't know how to assuage Castle's own worry when she couldn't even shake her own.

"The boys will take care of me," she said finally. "They won't let anything happen. And I'll call and check in every few hours."

It was unnerving to put all her trust in Ryan and Esposito. Twenty-four hours ago, Kate would have been fully confident in her ability to fend for herself. She was supposed to be stronger than this, not reduced to sleep deprivation and second-guessing at the first signs of Jerry Tyson.

They couldn't both be scared.

Beckett swallowed all doubt and allowed Castle one last languid kiss. "It'll be alright. I promise."

She hoped with everything in her it was a promise she could keep.

* * *

The precinct was chaotic when Kate strode into the bullpen at quarter to eight. Uniforms were scattered everywhere, moving furniture and evidence boxes and stacks of files. Kate scanned the mass of people for her team and saw Esposito and Ryan in Gates's office. Another woman was standing with them, her red hair pulled back into a severe pony tail.

Two officers walked past Kate carrying the glass equivalent of the 12th's murder board. Kate shrugged out of her coat and hung it haphazardly off the back of her chair. She pulled case files from her bag and placed them in the center of her desk, running her fingers along the edges to straighten them. She looked back at Esposito. He made brief eye contact and nodded at her.

Everything clicked just as the red-headed woman started to turn around. Jordan Shaw. Kate smiled and weaved her way through the overload of personnel to Gates's office.

"Detective Beckett, nice to see you again."

Beckett stuck out her hand. "Likewise."

Five more years of jumping on planes and hunting down criminals had made its mark on Agent Shaw. Her eyes were tired. She hid it well; you would never know if you weren't looking for it. But Kate Beckett was all too familiar with the way hard cases chipped at you over time.

"Did the boys bring you up to speed?" Kate asked, leaning back against the window ledge.

Shaw nodded, the beginnings of a smile on her lips. "They did. I'm very glad to hear you and Mr. Castle finally tied the knot."

A few days ago, Kate might have laughed or shoved Jordan's shoulder. "Yeah," she muttered. "Just in time for Tyson to tear us apart."

Everything was quiet. Kate whispered something of an apology as she left, intent on burying herself in case files again.

Agent Shaw caught her arm before she could make it to her desk. "Kate, I'm sorry. That wasn't what you needed." Beckett turned to look at the woman, crossed her arms, pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "Ryan and Esposito told me everything you have so far. I've got all my best guys on this case. We will find him, and Nieman, and we will make them pay. I have this."

Hope flared dangerously in Kate's stomach. "Have you seen the crime scenes?"

"Not yet. I wanted to wait for you. Where do you want to start?"

"Columbia," Kate said. "We should start there."

* * *

Castle poured himself a cup of black coffee and sat down at the dining room table, wrapping both hands around the mug. He didn't expect Alexis to come downstairs for at least another couple of hours, but already the quiet of the loft was starting to feed his paranoia. He resisted the urge to call his wife and took a long draw of coffee.

He hadn't been able to fall back asleep after Beckett left for the precinct; he'd stared at the ceiling for nearly an hour before he forced himself into the shower, letting the hot water sluice over his shoulders until his skin was nearly raw.

"Daddy?" He startled and jerked his head in the general direction of the stairs. Alexis stood on the landing with her arms wrapped around her stomach, an oversized hoodie drowning her slender frame.

"Hey, pumpkin," he said, already rising from his chair. She met him halfway and buried her head in his chest, curling a shaking hand in his Marvel tee. He cupped the back of his daughter's head and traced circles on her back. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I got a few hours after Kate came home," Alexis offered.

"Are you hungry?" She shook her head against his clavicle. "Okay. Let's go sit down." Castle led her to the couch by the hand and snagged the remote from the coffee table as they sat down, already scrolling through the DVR.

Alexis tucked herself into his side, pillowing her head with his shoulder. "Is Kate still asleep?"

"No, she went in to the precinct a little while ago."

"Oh."

"She promised to call and check in. And she won't stay late like last night."

"Okay." Castle called up the most recent episode of _General Hospital_ and tossed the remote on the cushion next to him. Alexis cuddled closer. Castle wasn't sure what to make of Alexis's apparent separation anxiety. Did she not feel safe?

Then again, it was entirely possible he was projecting. He felt safer, more grounded with Kate at his side. Maybe he'd read into Alexis's tone too much.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then he allowed himself to get caught up in the story unfolding in front of him.

They would just have to take this one moment at a time.

* * *

Castle scooped a handful of chopped broccoli into a pan and stirred it in with the chicken and bell peppers, watching Alexis in his periphery. He doubted she would eat dinner, but he hoped his stir fry would be enticing enough for Kate to come home at a decent hour.

She'd called to check in around noon, sounding cautiously optimistic as she told him about the FBI's involvement. It was comforting to know that Agent Shaw was working the case with Kate. Hordes of FBI agents floating around the precinct would only serve as an additional barrier between his wife and Jerry Tyson.

Rick mixed in jarred sauce and then pulled his phone from his back pocket. He snapped a picture and sent it to Kate. _Dinner's waiting for you_. He covered the pan and turned the heat down. His phone vibrated.

_Be home soon, babe._ He smiled, the knot in his stomach easing at the thought of Kate home with them. His phone lit up again. _How's Alexis?_

_Quiet_, he typed back.

He rounded the counter and ventured into the living room, plopping down next to Alexis. She shifted so her legs were draped across his lap. "Dinner smells good."

"Good enough to eat?"

She shrugged. "Maybe." She opened her mouth and then closed it, eyes watering.

"Alexis?"

"I just – I wanted to ask you, um, we want to do a vigil for Emma but the crime scene's still active and—" She closed her eyes and tears spilled over.

"Beckett will be home soon. We can talk with her about it." Alexis nodded and exhaled slowly. "I'm sure she can work something out. CSU has probably collected most of their evidence by now anyway."

"Okay."

They lapsed into silence and Castle watched Alexis pretend to be interested in the rerun of _Grey's Anatomy _she'd been watching. Her breathing stayed even and she'd stopped herself from crying, but there was still a faint tremor in her hands; she kept wringing them in her lap, the skin angry and red.

He was still murky on the details of what Alexis had told Kate and Esposito, but whatever it was seemed to be lacing guilt through her grief and leaving her raw. Castle tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

Kate would be home soon. She would know what to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Kate secured her hair in a messy bun at the base of her neck and rolled her sleeves up past her elbows. Castle stacked the plates from the island and set them on the counter next to her, the silverware piled in a heap on top.

He spanned his hands at her hips, crowding her against the sink. "We could just put this all in the dishwasher." She shook her head and squeezed a drop of dish soap into the water pooling on the left side of the sink. Castle slid his hands up to her shoulders and squeezed, digging the pads of his thumbs into the muscle. "Okay. Dishes. And then a massage."

Kate hummed in approval in angled her head back to kiss the corner of Castle's mouth. Even having shed her precinct armor—slacks, turtleneck, blazer, heels, gun and badge tucked safely away—she couldn't shake the weight of those three dead women, necks marred with dark purples and blues. They'd spent all day looking at crime scene photos, Jordan insistent that Tyson had left something behind for them to find. _He's playing games now,_ she'd said. _This isn't about him, it's about you_. It was chilling to think about Tyson killing just to get back at Castle. But what was worse was the feeling of uncertainty settling in Kate's stomach. Something wasn't right.

She dipped the dishrag into the suds and sloshed it over the first of the dinner plates, Castle still hovering just behind her. "Shaw wants to meet with us all tomorrow," she said finally, unable to compartmentalize the case. She rinsed the plate and set it in the drying rack. Castle found a dish towel and picked it back up.

"What time?"

She shrugged. "I guess whenever. We can do it here," she offered, scrubbing at leftover sauce. "But definitely before the vigil. Maybe after lunch?"

Castle nodded in her periphery and began drying the next plate. "Alexis too?"

"Yeah."

"What about me?" Alexis called from the stairs. Kate heard the girl sit down on a bar stool and looked over her shoulder.

"Agent Shaw wants to meet with the three of us tomorrow, go over some case stuff." She could see the discomfort in Alexis's eyes immediately. "It's not a big deal. She's just covering her bases," Kate assured her.

Alexis half-smiled and broke eye contact. Kate turned back to the sink and cleaned off a fork. She was the kind of tired where her vision sometimes blurred and then refocused and it did just that and she and Castle were finishing up.

Kate pulled the stopper from the sink and chased the remaining soap suds down the drain with cold water. Castle hooked his fingers in her front belt loops and tugged her away from the counter. She dropped the dishrag so it draped over the curve of the facet.

"Bedroom," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "I'll take care of Alexis."

She exhaled against his adam's apple and curled her fingers around his biceps. "Okay," she whispered, rounding the island to hug Alexis goodnight. "Don't worry about tomorrow. Shaw's not looking to interrogate you, I promise."

"Okay. Night, Kate."

Kate padded through the living room and into the office. She ran her fingertips along the spines of the books lined up at eye-level and wished for a moment she had the energy to lose herself in someone else's fictional world.

Instead she pulled the elastic from her hair and let it tumble in waves down her shoulders. She could hear Castle saying something to his daughter, voice low, but when she collapsed on the bed, everything went quiet, the exhaustion finally taking over.

Doctor Burke would tell her the reason her body ached was entirely stress-related, that she should step back and let Shaw hunt down the man trying to tear her family apart. But Kate knew she wouldn't be able to rest until Tyson and Nieman were locked up, Kate's handcuffs shackling their wrists.

"Hey, Kate?" She peeled her eyes open. Castle was leaning in the doorway, his body blocking the light from the office. "You okay?"

"I will be." Castle came to sit beside her, nudging her to roll onto her stomach.

He circled his fingers between her shoulder blades and then began to massage her sore muscles.

"Feels good," she mumbled into the pillow.

"Try and sleep, Kate."

A few minutes more and she was under, all thoughts of Tyson temporarily wiped from her mind.

* * *

Jordan Shaw knew exactly what to say. Kate probably found it slightly irritating, a point of competition, but Castle was glad for Shaw's practiced reassurance. Shaw's case notes were spread out across the dining room table via various legal pads. Castle watched in fascination as she created a timeline in a matter of minutes with Alexis's help. They were getting somewhere. He could feel it.

"Alright, Alexis. That's good. I'll have my guys line this up with the timelines we constructed for the other two vics. We'll see if anything overlaps." His daughter nodded. "Let's talk about the vigil tonight." Agent Shaw turned her attention to Kate. "Does NYPD have security?"

"We're coordinating with campus police and we've got our own uniforms working it. Castle and Alexis will still have their detail," Kate affirmed.

This seemed to satisfy Jordan. She gathered her notes and stuffed them in her bag. "I'll try to be there with a team to sift through the crowd. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"Do you really think he'll show up?" Castle asked, leaning back in his chair. "That's kind of risky, isn't it?"

"He won't be out in the open. But he'll want to check up on you if he gets wind of the vigil, which I'm sure he will." The thought of Tyson lurking at Columbia made his stomach bottom out. He looked to Kate for reassurance. Her eyes were very serious. "Anyways. We should get back. "Ready, Kate?"

His wife took a long draw of coffee and covered Alexis's hand with her own. "Mhm. I'll be home to change and then I'll meet you guys on campus, okay? Don't wait for me." She stood and Castle followed her lead, extending his hand to Jordan.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet."

Kate deposited her empty mug in the sink and slid back into her peacoat. Alexis trailed after her and whispered something. Kate set her hands at Alexis's shoulders, but he couldn't see her face from where he was standing.

"You raised a good kid, Rick," Jordan said, drawing his eyes away from the kitchen.

"Can't take all the credit. Sometimes she was more of a parent than I was."

Shaw smiled knowingly. "My oldest can be like that."

"Your oldest?"

She nodded. "I have two now. Jack just turned three." She slid her phone from the front pocket of her bag, swiping her thumb over the screen a few times before holding it out to him.

Jordan had pulled up a picture of both kids. Her daughter was standing barefoot on the beach, her toes curled into the sand. She had an arm curled around her little brother, his sister's blonde curls spilling over his shoulder. They were sticking their tongues out at the camera.

"Aw, they're adorable, Jordan."

Kate sidled up next to him. Just over Jordan's head, he could see Alexis slinking upstairs to her room.

"Ready to head back?" Kate plucked Jordan's phone from his hand and grinned. "Cute!" she praised, handing it back to Shaw.

"After we catch Tyson, I'm pulling Leah from school and we're all taking a trip to Disney."

"That sounds great," Castle said, trailing his fingers along Kate's spine. He didn't want her to go back to the precinct.

"Maybe we'll go up to the Hamptons after this," Kate teased, pecking him on the cheek on her way out the door. "Let's go get him."

* * *

It was all too much—the vigil, the extra security, the paranoia, the grief. It was too much. Alexis couldn't handle it. She was scared and she was sad and she couldn't steep in Columbia's collective mourning anymore.

Alexis had stared at the tree with its skeletal branches stretching up toward the sky, its darkness juxtaposed with the warmth of the candles circling its base, fanning out in rings in the snow. Some people had laid roses and various stuffed animals down between candles. Brian Mitchell, Emma's boyfriend, strummed guitar off to the side, his equipment stacked on top of a tarp someone had scrounged up at the last minute.

Groups comprised mostly of students huddled close; Alexis didn't recognize at least half of them. An hour into the vigil she couldn't breathe.

Shaking her detail was much easier than she had anticipated. She mumbled _bathroom_ under her breath when one of the officers approached her and he let her go into the residence hall unaccompanied, although she noticed him lurking just outside the door, updating his team via the radio he'd kept clipped to his belt.

She punched the up arrow at the elevators and stepped inside an empty car, rode up to the third floor. The hallways were empty except for a handful of girls Alexis knew from class and some guy at the end of her hallway looking out at the candlelight through the window, his back to her.

Alexis dug her key out from her back pocket and slid it into the lock. The turning of the tumblers was audible in the silence. She shut the door behind her and sank back against it, pulling her knees to her chest. Her whole body wracked with the force of her grief and her fear.

She should have said something sooner, to Kate or to her father or to _someone_. She knew in gut there was something wrong with the man Emma had been skulking around campus with just last week. Alexis had decided to ignore it, brushing it aside as not her business. But maybe if she would have spoken up things would have turned out differently.

Her phone vibrated. _Everything okay?_

_Yeah, just needed a minute_, Alexis texted back, already using the edges of her sleeves to wipe off her cheeks. Kate would be coming soon anyway. She should go back down and face the music. Emma was dead, there was a serial killer possibly looking to target her, and there was nothing Alexis could do about that now.

She took a deep breath stood back up. Monkey Bunkey was sitting on her bed and she grabbed him and tucked him away in her coat pocket. It was dark enough outside now that no one would be able to tell. Key in hand, she stepped out into the hallway. The door wasn't locking correctly and as she stood trying to fix it, something moved behind her.

"Alexis?" It was a man's voice, but she didn't find any familiarity in it. She spun on her heel, one hand still on the doorknob. Before she could respond, something in her arm seized.

Darkness washed over her.


	5. Chapter 5

Alexis woke to an ache in her bones, the cold slowly rousing her. Every last limb felt heavy and stiff as she scraped her eyes open. The shapes around her slowly became sharper, the edges more defined as her body fought to be fully conscious.

A splintering wooden chair sat in the corner opposite her, barely illuminated by the single lightbulb hanging from the center of the ceiling. A tripod was set up just in front of the chair, but there was no camera. The concrete beneath her allowed the winter air to seep into everything.

Someone stepped out of the shadows.

"Hey there," a woman murmured, crouching down to stroke Alexis's forehead. Her fingers were warm against Alexis's iced skin, but the touch felt wrong. She angled her head away. The woman clucked her tongue. "Alexis, sweetheart, try and stay still. The drugs are still wearing off." She didn't even have the strength to turn her head back to center. The woman sighed and did it for her. Alexis groaned. Her blood felt thick. Her wrists and ankles were tight.

She couldn't move.

Panic seized her chest, adrenaline rushing in to take the place of the last of the fading drugs. The woman seemed to sense this change. "Shhh. Don't fight it. You're here now. You can't do anything to save yourself." Hot tears pricked in the back of her eyes and she blinked them away. The woman swiped at them with her thumbs, framing Alexis's face. "Oh honey, this is just the beginning."

A sob wrenched its way from Alexis's throat despite her dry mouth. The woman hushed her. The door creaked. The man from the dorms towered above both of them, a sick smile painted across his face. Something small and black was tucked into his palm. "Up."

The woman grabbed her bound wrists and jerked her to a sitting position, all her gentleness gone. Everything spun. Black speckled her vision. Her captors hoisted her to her feet and dragged her to the chair in the corner. She knew exactly what came next.

After fiddling with the camera he'd brought in, the man sank down so he was just below her eye level. He fisted his hand in her hair and held her head straight. "Say hi to your daddy, Alexis."

* * *

An excess of adrenaline made her head light and her stomach bottom out. Kate braced her hands against the breakroom countertop and closed her eyes, took a deep a breath. The image of Castle at the crime scene—his eyes wide, terror smeared across his face—was burned into her mind. She couldn't shake it for the entirety of the 5 hours she'd spent combing campus alongside Shaw and even now it haunted her, then night washed away by fresh sunlight.

They had no leads. Tyson appeared on the security footage just outside Alexis's room, smiled at the camera, and then the feed turned to static. No one could remember seeing Alexis or Tyson after that. The GPS on Alexis's phone was useless; they'd found it on Kate's windshield, tied to a wiper with a cord of Tyson's signature nylon rope.

There was nothing.

"Kate?" She lifted her head in the direction of the door. Shaw smiled at her. "Go home. Get some rest, be with your husband. I promise I'll call you if we have something."

"We have to bring her home, Jordan."

"I know. I've got my best guys on this." Kate nodded and ran a hand through her hair. Shaw disappeared back into the bustle of the bullpen.

Kate picked up her phone to text Castle and then thought better of it, shoving it in her back pocket. If she gave him warning, he'd just worry about how long was too long for her take getting back to him and he didn't need that right now.

She went back to her desk and gathered her things, giving Ryan and Esposito a tight smile as she tugged her coat on and wound a scarf around her neck. LT rode down into the lobby with her and walked her to her car, standing watch until she was in the driver's seat with the doors locked.

The morning traffic was just starting to die down as Kate drove home in auto-pilot, the radio blaring to keep her awake. Without immediate next steps her adrenaline deserted her quickly, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Curling up in bed with Castle when she got home was a lovely thought, but it was unrealistic and she knew it. Neither of them would be sleeping any time soon.

Castle's doorman gave her a sad smile on the way in and she shrugged it off. There was no need for pity. They would find Alexis and they would bring Tyson to justice and it would fine. It would all be fine.

She repeated this notion in her head as the elevator carried her up to the loft. When she slipped inside, Martha was slumped over at the island nursing a glass of wine. The clock on the microwave read 8:36am. She looked up at the disturbance of quiet.

"Katherine, darling. I'm so glad you're here. Anything?" she asked hopefully, coming to meet Kate in the living room.

Kate shook her head and let Martha wrap her in a hug. "Agent Shaw just thought—"

"No, no. I understand. I'm glad you're home." She gestured to the bottle on the counter. "Wine?"

"Maybe later," Kate hedged, glancing nervously at the door to the study. Surely Castle had heard her come in; his hiding could not mean anything good. "I'm uh, gonna go check on him. Are you okay out here?"

"Of course, dear."

She toed out of her shoes and draped her coat and scarf over the back of the couch, watching as Martha returned to her perch at the island, half the bottle of wine already gone. She'd have to keep an eye on the woman, make sure she didn't slip too far into the hole that alcohol so often created.

Kate swung the door to the office open, taken aback by the dim lighting. Castle had drawn all the shades. Hardly any sunlight had managed to sneak through the slats. He sat at his desk cradling a tumbler of scotch, eyes dark and staring at nothing, hair sticking up in every direction.

"Rick," she murmured, swallowing down the memories of her own father drowning his sorrows. "Babe, look at me." His eyes focused on her. Anger spread across his face, but she couldn't tell what it was directed at—her or reality. Or both.

He knocked back the rest of his drink and poured another shot. "I want him dead."

"I know." She rounded the desk and spun his chair so he was facing her. "Shaw's got her best guys on this."

"You're not the best anymore, huh?" There was an edge to his voice that Kate didn't like.

"Castle—"

"You should have been there, Kate."

Every muscle in her body tensed. "I was working the case so this wouldn't happen—" Castle's phone chimed from where it sat in the middle of his desk. She recognized it as an email notification. The screen lit up with a preview of the message. The subject line read: _I've got your girl._

"Oh God." Castle swiped the screen and pulled up the email. A video was attached. She felt weak in the knees as he pressed play. Tyson was crouched down next to Alexis, a hand angling her head.

"Say hi to your daddy, Alexis."

"Oh, and to Detective Beckett, too. I'm sure she's watching." That voice gave Kate chills. Nieman didn't have to be in frame to be recognizable. Castle inhaled sharply and squeezed his tumbler so hard his knuckles were white.

"Don't be shy," Tyson encouraged. Kate watched in horror as he reached up to catch the tears trailing down Alexis's cheeks. It only made the girl more upset. "Aw, do you want to go home? Do you want Detective Beckett to come rescue you?" Alexis nodded, kneading her bottom lip between her teeth. "Poor baby," Tyson mocked, looking straight into the camera. "Guess you better hurry, Beckett."

The screen went black.

Castle doubled over, head in his hands. She kneeled down in front of him, tilting his head up toward her. "Shh. He's just messing with us, Rick. We'll find her. I promise we'll find her." His eyes were dangerous on hers, and then he was standing up, the tumbler back in his hand. In one fluid motion, it shattered against the door. Already ajar, the extra force swung it wide enough for them to see Martha still propped up on a barstool.

"Castle—"

He held a hand up, cutting her off. "I can't—" He grit his teeth. "I need some space, Kate."

She tried not to let her reaction play across her face. He blamed her. He blamed_ her_ and he couldn't look at her without being angry.

Kate bowed her head, stepped over the glass littering the doorway, and stalked out of the loft, not even bothering to grab her coat from the back of the couch.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you, Gorane, for being an excellent sounding board and source of encouragement as I wrestled with this chapter.**

* * *

The woman was no longer nameless. After the drugs had drained from Alexis, leaving her body sluggish and aching, she had listened as Kelly Nieman proudly introduced herself and rattled off her credentials while immobilizing her with duct tape. Alexis took careful breaths, counting between exhales, trying to lessen the panic swelling in her chest.

Nothing was working and Kelly just seemed to feed off of her anxiety.

"Alexis, sweetheart," she said after what felt like hours of silence, "I don't want you to get your hopes up. Jerry has big plans for you. For this," she continued, gesturing to the cinderblock around them. "Detective Beckett is very good at her job, but she's no match for Jerry Tyson. Or me, for that matter." Kelly smiled and framed Alexis's face in her hands. "It's a shame, really. You seem like a good kid."

And then she left, flicking the lightswitch on the way out, bathing everything in immediate and unnerving darkness. The door's deadbolt locked audibly. Alexis swallowed past the tight spot in her throat and closed her eyes, counting as she inhaled.

Kate had counted out loud with her one night after Paris when nightmares were wound so tightly around her neck she couldn't breathe and if Alexis thought about it hard enough, she could almost hear Kate's voice now.

_One, two, three, four._ Out. She was supposed to be exhaling through her mouth, but Kelly had plastered tape across her lips, apparently afraid someone would hear her. They must be closer to the city than Alexis had initially thought, then. There was no reason to keep her quiet if they'd driven out into abandoned countryside somewhere.

If she was still in New York, maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe Kate could still find her.

Maybe Kelly Nieman's face would not be the last thing she saw before she died.

The knot in her stomach loosened and the tension in her shoulders eased. Drowsiness tugged at her until her eyes drooped and her breathing slowed. She let it drag her under.

* * *

Kate sat huddled in her car with one knee drawn up between her torso and the steering wheel. She stared at her phone where it lay face up on the passenger seat and took a long draw of the coffee she'd picked up on the way to the precinct. Deep down she knew he wasn't going to call; he needed more than an hour to sober up and calm down and face facts.

She flipped her phone over and watched the snowflakes blowing into the parking garage, melting against her windshield as soon as they landed. Sighing, she polished off her coffee and pulled her key from the ignition. Sitting here wasn't going to solve anything.

Either she needed to go home and make things right with her husband, or she had to go inside and argue with Jordan Shaw about staying another 12 hours. Kate wasn't to blame for what happened to Alexis, and she knew that. She had repeated it over and over in her mind on the drive from the loft. But she couldn't go home to Castle until he knew it too.

She swiped her phone off of the seat and stuffed it in her back pocket as she got out of the car. Coatless, the bitter cold sliced right through her core. She pocketed her keys and crossed her arms, teeth grit.

Halfway to the stairs, heavy footsteps began to echo with her own. She reached for her gun out of habit and realized she'd left it at the loft, along with her badge and cuffs. Her stomach bottomed out. Just as she was digging her phone out of her pocket, Jerry Tyson's voice shattered the silence.

"Don't even think about it. Put your hands up and turn around."

"There's a camera on this floor, Tyson. You won't make it back out."

Tyson chuckled. "Just like I didn't make it off of campus? Please. I'm not going to ask you again, Detective." Breathless, she spun on her heel and glared at him.

"Where is she?"

Tyson stepped closer and clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Hands."

When she hesitated again, he glanced over his shoulder. "I guess you just need a little more encouragement," he drawled.

Kelly Nieman stepped out of the shadows with Alexis pressed up against her, a scalpel at the girl's throat, and Kate's breath hitched. She watched, helpless, as Nieman sliced a thin line under Alexis's jaw, eliciting a moan. Blood dribbled down her neck and seeped into the top of her sweater. "On your knees, Detective."

Kate lowered herself to the ground with her hands above her head and hoped with everything in her that someone was watching the security footage. "Very good," Tyson praised, reaching into his pocket. He tossed a pair of handcuffs in her direction. "Put those on."

Fully aware that Nieman would delight in making a second cut, she slapped the cuffs on, watching Alexis out of the corner of her eye. She looked terrified.

"Kate," she whimpered, both a plea and a warning. Nieman had her head pulled back now, a hand stretched across her forehead. Kate thought about Castle sitting in his office with his whole world shattering, his angry eyes and his wounded soul. She could fix this.

"Take me instead," she said hurriedly, before she could overthink it. "You don't need both of us."

"Kate, don't—" Nieman moved her hand from Alexis's forehead to her mouth.

"Actually," Tyson smirked, walking over to tighten her cuffs, "I do." He crouched down and took her phone from her back pocket, thumbing something on the screen. "Smile."

* * *

Castle stood motionless under the shower head, scalding water pounding his shoulders and running down the length of his spine. His stomach was in knots, equal parts alcohol and anxiety, and the steam that filled the bathroom smelled like scotch.

His little girl was gone, and he'd chased his wife out, and his mother was indubitably tipsy in the kitchen.

He couldn't breathe.

The look of hurt that slid across Kate's face in the seconds between concern and anger rattled around in his mind. He hadn't cared then, or he did, but he didn't want to. His little girl was gone. But then Beckett walked out on him; she didn't stay and fight him for the truth.

Kate always fought.

Castle let out something close to a sob and turned the water off, wrapped a towel around his waist as he walked into the bedroom. The air was cooler now, less stifling, and goosebumps prickled along his back. He scrubbed a hand down his face and rubbed at the moisture there.

"Richard," his mother called, tapping on the door, "I made eggs. You should eat something." He bobbed his head and took a deep breath before assuring her he'd be right out and rifling through the dresser.

As he slicked on deodorant and pulled on a tee shirt, he let his mind go blank. He froze, time stopped, his thoughts cloudy and intangible.

Except for Kate. And Alexis. And Jerry Tyson.

A pit of guilt was slowly swallowing him whole; there were too many should haves and what ifs and he found himself at the epicenter of everything, all the way back to that motel room four years earlier.

He tugged on boxers and a pair of jeans, his towel pooled at his feet, and let the guilt and fear and all of the rest of it consume him. A moment of hesitation and then he was reaching for his phone where it sat on the dressertop, thumbing in his passcode and hitting his speed dial.

She didn't answer the first time he called, or the second, so on the third call, he took himself off of autopilot and left a voicemail, apologies tumbling from his mouth.

"Just please come home, Kate. Okay? Just come home. I love you."

He stumbled out into the kitchen and offered his mother a tired smile, phone still curled in his hands. Next to the plate she had made him were three ibuprofen and a glass of orange juice. He knocked them back and set the phone on the counter next to him. It vibrated before either of them said anything to break the silence.

It wasn't Kate.

"Hey, Ryan."

"Hey, Castle," he said slowly, as if he were searching for words.

It must be bad.

"We're in the parking garage at the 12th. Kate's gone."

* * *

They drove for so long that Kate couldn't estimate the number of hours that had stretched between the parking garage and wherever they found themselves now. The car stilled as the engine shut off; a few moments later Tyson yanked open the van doors and tugged her out by her wrists. She stared up at the already-darkening sky and took in the endless tree line, shoulders sagging.

"Oh, what's the matter? Not cozy enough for you?" She had several snarky quips at the ready, but Tyson had wasted no time in gagging her before they left the 12th. It might be for the best anyway. She wasn't sure how far he would go in using Alexis as leverage and until Kate was sure of those boundaries she'd have to tread lightly.

Nieman crawled out of the back of the van and dragged Alexis with her. She'd spent the duration of the ride with the girl half in her lap, pressing gauze to the cut under her jaw and stroking her fingers over the girl's hair. Aside from her shaking hands and trembling bottom lip, Alexis had remained absolutely still, silent tears running down her cheeks, some of them seeping into the gauze. She wouldn't look Kate in the eye.

Tyson shut the van doors and smiled. "Now then. Let's go over some ground rules, shall we?" Kate winced as he took Alexis from Nieman and shoved her toward the steps of the cabin. She stumbled and just barely caught herself on the rotting railing. More than her hands shook now.

"Detective Beckett," Nieman prompted, a hand at Kate's lower back to nudge her forward. She swallowed down her disgust and followed Alexis up the stairs.

"Firstly: don't bother screaming for help. No one can hear you out here." He swung the doors open and pushed Alexis inside.

"And it's tedious," Nieman added, gesturing for Kate to enter. "After you, Detective."

Inside was far more put together than its exterior suggested—warm colors and soft lighting, photos scattered across the mantle above the fireplace. She took in every detail while Tyson continued on about following instructions.

They wouldn't be here for long, Kate was sure. It was too nice, and the electricity made the place traceable. It probably also meant that this cabin was not as secluded as Tyson wanted them to think. No, this was a waystation while he watched the investigation unfold. Once he saw where Shaw was looking, he'd move in the opposite direction.

And in the meantime, he'd toy with Castle from a distance. She and Alexis were just pawns in a game Tyson had been plotting for years.

"And Kate," he said, drawing her back in, "you try anything stupid and Alexis will pay for it. She's your whipping boy. Do you understand?" Kate nodded and Tyson reached out to remove her gag. "Excellent."

In front of her, Nieman was cutting off the duct tape around Alexis's wrists. "There we go, sweetheart."

Kate took a deep breath and ignored a wave of nausea. Everything was so surreal all of the sudden. Alexis glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

"Shh. You're alright," Nieman soothed. She smirked when she caught Kate watching, pulling Alexis into a hug to further exert her power.

Kate fisted her hands and closed her eyes to keep from glaring. "Welcome home, Beckett," Tyson chirped, catching her chin between his fingers. She forced her eyes back open and he grinned. "Better get used to that. She's at the end of her first trimester; maternal hormones are raging."

* * *

Lanie wouldn't stop hovering. She had beaten him to the scene, she had insisted on taking him into homicide while the boys wrapped up operations, and now he was sitting in the break room a banana bag in his arm that she'd pulled out of thin air.

"I'm not going to let you self-destruct while they're gone, Castle." She passed him an espresso and sat down on the couch with him, a hand on his knee.

"I wasn't—"

"Richard Castle, you most certainly were."

He sighed. "Yeah."

Lanie's eyes softened. "We'll find them, Rick." Castle nodded and sipped his espresso, tilted his head to rest against the back of the couch. She couldn't promise that and she knew it.

Tyson had changed the lock screen on Kate's phone to a picture he'd taken of both of them. She wasn't looking at the camera, instead focused on something to her left, her eyes glassy. She was cuffed, and Tyson had his hand wrapped around her bicep.

She didn't have on a coat. He'd found it draped across the couch in the living room on the way out, her scarf piled on top. She'd left so quickly, hurt and angered because of him, that she hadn't even taken her coat.

If she'd taken the extra thirty seconds, maybe Tyson wouldn't have had the opportunity to take her. If he hadn't yelled maybe she'd be at home with him still, curled up in bed.

If she didn't come back from this, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Esposito rapped on the door, rattling the glass, and poked his head in. "Shaw wants to see you in the war room, says it's important."

Kate had to come back from this.


	7. Chapter 7

Too many nights of insufficient sleep left Kate empty and raw, any remaining adrenaline washed away by several hours spent in the dark, curled up in the corner of the basement. She kept dosing and jerking awake moments later, body turning rigid, her breathing shaky. By the time her eyes adjusted, exhaustion clouded her mind over and shapes became murky again, eyelids drooping until there was nothing. She couldn't break the cycle.

Eventually, her body gave in, and when Kate woke up, she was back in the van, head pillowed in Alexis's lap. "Hey," she whispered. Everything felt out of focus. Kate started to sit up and Alexis stopped her, a hand on her shoulder. "Give it a minute."

Alexis was remarkably calm, but her cheeks were tear-stained and she wouldn't hold Kate's gaze. "Alexis," Kate murmured, grabbing the girl's hand.

"I'm fine," she hedged.

"Did they hurt you?"

"Would you really have done it?" Kate pushed herself into a sitting position and turned to face Alexis.

"Of course." The van jostled them both as it hit a rough patch; Kate braced herself against the wall, palm pressed flat next to Alexis's ear. Flexing her wrist made the chafed skin there burn; she grit her teeth and tried to keep her face neutral. Alexis was finally looking at her. "This isn't your battle, sweetheart. It's mine, it's your dad's, it's Ryan and Esposito's. Tyson shouldn't be putting you in the middle."

Alexis leaned forward to rest her head on Kate's shoulder; Kate dragged her fingers up and down the girl's spine, soothing. She coaxed Alexis into curling up next to her, legs draped across Kate's thighs. "Did they hurt you?" she asked again, tracing circles between Alexis's shoulder blades.

"I'm okay. Wrists still hurt." Kate nodded in agreement and wondered about the lack of restraints, the absence of Nieman or Tyson to keep watch. Perhaps they'd thought Kate would be out longer.

Alexis sighed. "Tired," she mumbled, her body growing heavy against Kate's.

"Go to sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there."

"Mm. Love you, Kate."

"Love you, too."

* * *

_Alexis pushed her food around on her plate with her fork and stared at the door. "He should be here by now." Kate nodded to her untouched plate, swallowing a bite of her own pasta._

"_You should eat."_

"_But Dad—"_

_Kate shook her head. "He'll get here as soon as he can."_

_Alexis shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth. Something wasn't right; she was hyper-aware of everything around the two of them, paranoia crawling up her spine. She swallowed and her stomach immediately protested. "Kate," she insisted, shoving down her nausea. "He should be here by now."_

"_Honey__," Kate gentled, almost patronizing, "He's doing the best he can."_

_It had been too long. They were going to run out of time._

_She forced down another bite of food and took a deep breath. When she glanced back up at Kate, there was rope wrapped at her torso and wrists, leaving her immobilized in the dining room chair. "Kate, what—"_

_The door swung open and her dad stood motionless in the doorway, panic smeared across his face. Jerry Tyson strolled in right behind him, his gun trained on her father's head. "Daddy!"_

"_Shhh. It'll be okay." Kelly was suddenly crouched down in front of her, calm and poised and securing her wrists to the chair arms. "Say goodbye."_

_Kate choked on a sob but Alexis couldn't find her. "Where's Kate?" she demanded of Kelly._

"_She can't help you now, Alexis."_

_Eyes wide, she turned her attention back to the entryway. Jerry's smile was too sinister. Oh, God. Kelly had told her to say goodbye._

_The gunshot echoed in the silence and her father crumpled, blood spots staining his shirt._

"_Dad!" _

_Everything went black. No one was coming. No one was coming and her father was dead and Kate was gone and she couldn't breathe—_

"_Alexis, wake up," a voice soothed. It sounded like home._

_Alexis didn't think she'd ever be able to go home._

"_You're okay. It's just a dream. You just have to wake up."_

Alexis startled awake, every muscle in her body tensing. "Hey," Kate murmured. It was too dark too see her face. "You're okay. Just a dream."

Panic still clogged Alexis's throat and pressed down sharply on her chest. "Kate, what if it's too late?" Tears clung to her eyelashes and she buried her face in Kate's neck. She felt too much like a little girl—scared after a nightmare, her body shaking. Only instead of her Gram or her dad to coddle her, she had Kate.

"One. Two. Three. Four." Alexis followed Kate's cue and breathed in. "It's not. They'll find us. Breathe out." She exhaled and felt immediately better for it, her heart rate already slowing at the ritual. "Good. Go again."

_In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four, five, six._

"Better?" Alexis nodded against Kate's clavicle and realized she still had her fingers curled tightly in Kate's tee shirt.

"Sorry," she mumbled, loosening her grip.

Kate rubbed circles on Alexis's back, soothing until the remnants of her nightmare broke apart and scattered. "We're gonna be okay, Alexis. I will make sure you get home."

The van slowed beneath them and all the calm Kate had given to Alexis was wiped away in four seconds.

* * *

"Your turn, Alexis. I'll wait right here with Detective Beckett." Tyson grabbed Kate's arm and pulled her too close, his breath hot against her ear. Alexis looked hesitant and Kate nodded in encouragement.

"I'll be fine." Alexis disappeared into the dingy gas station bathroom.

"Kelly, honey, why don't you go find some snacks? You're eating for two now," Tyson said, his tone markedly more gentle.

"Sounds good," she chorused, reaching out to trace her fingers along Kate's jawline. Before she could process the gesture, Nieman was stepping around her to kiss Tyson's cheek. "I'll be right back," Kelly assured the both of them, heading into an aisle of processed dinner products.

Kate took stock of the empty store and the bored teenager (who looked strung out on something); there were no cameras anywhere that she could see. The shelves were sparse—Kate doubted that delivery trucks stopped regularly here. They were stuck out here.

"I have to admit, Detective, I didn't think you'd be so attached to Castle's daughter. Certainly not attached enough to offer yourself up as a sacrificial lamb."

"Clearly you haven't been paying close enough attention," she spat back, yanking her arm away. He caught her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back.

"Ah, ah, ah," he cautioned, smiling as she hissed, pain flaring along her forearm to her bicep. "Do you remember what I said? You don't behave and it will be Alexis that pays. And I can't imagine you'd like it if I ran my fingers along that milky skin of hers, would you?"

"N-no," she stuttered, immediately assaulted with images of Tyson's hands skimming Alexis's collarbone, rope hanging limply off her neck. "No."

"Didn't think so," he smirked, releasing her wrist. "Oh, and look, here she is." Alexis froze in the bathroom doorway, hand still wrapped around the handle.

"Um."

Kate positioned herself between Tyson and Alexis, a hand extended behind her. Alexis laced their fingers together. Kate heard her counting under her breath, but the tremor of her body only seemed to intensify.

Screw Tyson.

Kate Beckett turned around and pulled Castle's daughter into a hug, cupping the base of her skull. "I wanna go home, Kate."

"I know." Tyson leered from his spot in front of the beef jerky and took a camcorder from his coat pocket. A red light started blink by the lens. Kate averted her eyes and focused on Alexis. Had she heard their conversation from the bathroom?

"Don't feel good," she muttered.

"Don't feel good how?" Kate asked, snaking a hand between them to feel her forehead. Alexis's skin was warm to the touch. "Alexis?"

"Mm. Wanna lay down."

"Okay, okay. Few more minutes." Kate held Alexis up and scanned the aisles, waiting for Nieman to come back. Tyson delighted in her glower.

"Don't look at me, Detective. If anything, the drugs we gave her would have allowed her body more time to rest and fight off whatever this is."

"Okay, all set!" Nieman said, cradling a basketful of assorted items. "Ready?" She glanced over at the two of them, studying. "Alexis, sweetheart, what's the matter?"

The way the girl's body tensed in Kate's arms told her everything she needed to know. Kelly Nieman's mothering had evidently gone too far in Kate's absence. "I've got her."

"No, really," Nieman insisted, passing the basket to Tyson. "I'll take her."

"She's not a toddler, Nieman," Kate said, suddenly feeling very protective. "We're not passing her around."

Nieman smiled, a hand falling to rest on her stomach. "We'll see."


	8. Chapter 8

After six days without adequate sleep, Lanie uncurled her hand to reveal a sleeping pill. Castle sighed but took it from her without protest. He filled a coffee mug with water and then sat down on the break room couch, knocking back the capsule. Lanie regarded him with sympathetic eyes from where she stood hovering by the counter.

Leads were nonexistent. Every time Tyson sent a video, Tori and Shaw's agents scrubbed the footage for hours. By the time they found something useful and a team was dispensed, Beckett and Alexis were gone. Shaw hadn't even bothered to send more than a handful of uniforms to the gas station from Tyson's latest proof of life.

"Castle," Lanie gentled, coming to sit next to him. "You really should go home and sleep. Javi can drive you."

He shook his head. "I need to be here. If they find something, I need to be here. I'm not giving up on them—"

She shook her head. "No one said that. Of course you're not. But you're no good to them here, especially without proper rest." She turned so that her knees were almost perpendicular with his, a hand over his. "You need to take care of yourself so that you can be here when they get back. Kate wouldn't want this," she said, gesturing to the break room. "And I'm sure your mother's not a fan either."

He could feel the weight of her words in his chest; he took a breath. Lanie gave him a sad smile.

Before he could find the words to respond, Shaw was walking through the door, Esposito and Ryan right behind her. "There's another one," she murmured, so softly that Castle thought he might have imagined it. Jordan wouldn't meet his eyes and her voice was too tight as she said, "It's not good, Rick."

_Show me_ was his automatic reaction, but he wasn't sure he really wanted to see it. Whatever Tyson had done, it was enough to shake Jordan Shaw, and from the looks of it, the boys too. They were silent in the doorway.

"How bad?" Lanie asked after several moments, pushing up off the sofa.

Ryan cleared his throat. No one said anything.

"How bad?" Castle echoed, panic crawling up his throat. "Are they—oh God, are they dead? Did he kill them? Jordan, what—"

Jordan's head shot up, eyes wide. "No. No. Not dead. No." Even still, when he glanced at Lanie, there were tears in her eyes. Esposito held his hand out and pulled her against his chest, cradling the back of her head. He whispered something Castle couldn't hear.

"What did he do to them?" he choked out, breathless. "I have to see. Show me."

Ryan stepped out from where he was partially hidden by Esposito and Lanie. "Castle," he said, placating. "It's not pretty. I don't think you should watch."

"Well if no one's going to tell me what the hell is going on—"

"He's playing mind games with Kate," Ryan offered, scrubbing a hand down his face.

Castle buried his head in his palms and forced a breath. "Mind games?" Nausea rolled in his stomach, sharp and insistent. Teeth grit, he it swallowed it down. Hypotheticals ran wild in the darker corners of his mind and they all ended in rope necklaces and limp bodies. He opened his eyes wide to get away from the images; Ryan was crouched in front of him.

"Castle, hey. Don't go there. Let me just—I'll show you, okay? I'll show you." Castle nodded slowly, the adrenaline fading with Ryan's words. He flicked his eyes up to Shaw. She seemed to be regaining her usual hardened exterior, her spine straightened, shock replaced with determination. Maybe it was an act, an attempt to bolster him, but Castle would take it.

And if what Tyson had done to his girls was really so bad, the least he could do was suck it up and watch, find the clues and build the story and get them out before Tyson destroyed them all.

* * *

"Really, Kate, I thought you'd be much stronger by now," Tyson taunted from behind the camera. Her arms were chained above her and Castle suspected her legs were immobilized as well, though they could only see her from her hips and up. Beside him, Lanie was near sobbing, but Castle just stared at the monitor, all of it too surreal to process.

Every 15 seconds or so, a gunshot echoed and then he heard his own voice on the video: _I love you, Kate._ There was nothing special about his tone, nothing to hint at when Tyson had recorded that particular sound bite. He tried not to think about the last time he had been hovered over Kate in bed, whispering promises into her skin in the dark of night, her smile stretched wide. Had Tyson been listening then?

Kate's jagged cries shattered the image of them together, quiet and safe and happy. She was in hysterics, her chest rapidly rising and falling, short shallow breaths that he knew weren't enough, eyes panicked and wide. Tyson just kept the audio on a loop, her panic attack kept at an impossible peak this way.

"Say goodbye to Castle, Detective," Tyson drawled, reaching out to tilt her head up toward the camera. Tears streaked her face; Castle realized too late that his own eyes were watery as well, tears spilling across his cheek bones when he blinked. He swiped at them with the heels of his hands.

The screen went black for a moment and then an entirely different scene was unfolding before his eyes. Alexis lay supine on the floor, eyes closed, Nieman sitting by her hip, a hand curled around his daughter's wrist.

"Rick Castle, you have a beautiful daughter. Almost as lovely as your wife, and that's saying something." Alexis groaned and scraped her eyes open; it seemed to take her a moment to realize where she was, her body going rigid in a delayed response. "Hey, sweetheart," Nieman whispered, sounding close to genuine. "How do you feel?"

Castle watched as she laid the back of her free hand across Alexis's forehead. "Still warm," she reported to the camera. "Probably needs some meds." Alexis had still yet to say anything. Her face was scrunched up as if she were in pain and Castle's heart sank.

"Alexis has the flu, we think," Tyson filled in, just as Alexis sucked in a sharp breath.

"Where's Kate?" She tried to sit up and Nieman held her down.

"Shh. Just rest, dear." Helpless, Castle could only stand there as his daughter's eyes welled up.

"I can't," he rasped. "Shut it off." What did that say about him, that he could endure Kate's suffering but not Alexis's?

"There's only a minute left," Esposito said. "You should see this part."

"Do you have anything you want to say to your daddy, Alexis?" Castle couldn't look up at the monitor, but he made himself listening the audio, Alexis almost whimpering as Nieman hushed her, probably mothering just about as well as Meredith.

Oh. Crap. He should call her—

"I love you, Dad. I'm really sorry." Castle snapped his head in the direction of the screen just as it went dark. The room was silent, save for Lanie's sniffling. Jordan was stock still in front of him, a spell over her again. What skeletons were haunting her, brought back to life with this case?

She looked so small to him all of the sudden, but he didn't let the mystery of her entrance him for long. "Can we trace it?" he asked, turning to Tori and Irv, the FBI's tech.

Tori sighed. "It was sent from Beckett's old apartment building."

"Did you—"

"Uniforms just radioed in. No sign of Tyson or Nieman," Gates informed them from the doorway. "I'm sorry," she added, squeezing Castle's shoulder. Well there went that lead.

"What about security footage?"

"My guys will run it as soon it becomes available. Hopefully we'll have something by morning," Shaw said robotically, still facing the screen. "You should try and get some rest."

He couldn't fathom going back to the loft, to his mother, and trying to sleep. But his body was starting to feel heavy, both anguish and the effects of the sleeping pill Lanie had given him.

"Come on, Castle. Me and Javi will drop you at the loft."

Ryan nudged past Gates into the hallway, steering him towards Kate's desk, where his coat was draped over the back of her chair. "When was the last time you ate?" Ryan whispered under his breath. Castle pulled on his coat and studied the floor.

Lanie had done her fair share of coddling, but the boys had pretended not to notice and avoided doing it themselves. At least Ryan waited until they were out of everyone's ear shot. "Think I ate something around 1," Castle offered, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"It's almost midnight, Rick."

"Yeah."

"You have to keep going for them."

"Yeah."

"Rick." He met Ryan's eyes. "We'll bring them home."

"I hope so."

So many questions remained unanswered, but at least he knew that Ryan and Esposito had enough faith for all of them.

* * *

"_Rick, please," Kate begged. "Please." Her voice cracked and she crumpled in front of him, sobbing. Tyson had his gun leveled at her head. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead._

"_Shut up," he barked, jerking the gun. "Come here, Castle." Rick closed the 6 foot gap between them and got to his knees in front of Kate. "Very good. Go ahead; make her feel better."_

_Castle knew any affection he showed would earn mocking remarks from Tyson, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Kate," he gentled, reaching for her hands, "Look at me." She surged forward and buried her face in his jacket. Every part of her shook._

"_Aww, how sweet," Tyson said as Castle wrapped his arms around his wife. "Now for the bad news." Castle pulled Kate closer, murmuring nonsense in her ear. "I have three guns. One of them isn't loaded. If you pick that one, you can walk out of here with her. If not, well, I'm sure you can guess as to what happens."_

"_Kate, hey. Breathe. You have to breathe." He smoothed her hair back and pressed his lips to the crown of her head. "What about Alexis?" he asked of Tyson, tracing circles on Kate's back._

"_Oh, I'm afraid I've already dealt with her, Castle." The weight of that statement made him breathless._

_He sought explanation from his wife, unable to stomach hearing those details from Jerry Tyson. "Kate?"_

"_I'm so sorry, Rick. I'm so sorry."_

_Having Kate in his arms suddenly felt foreign and strange. He pulled back to look her in the eye. "What?"_

"_I'm sorry," she said again._

_Tyson stooped down next to them and held out three guns before Castle could ask why she was apologizing. "Pick one." When he didn't immediately comply, Tyson yanked Kate away from him. "Choose a gun, Ricky," he instructed, skimming his fingers at Kate's neck. She shuddered and curled in on herself._

"_It's okay, Rick. Whatever happens, it'll be okay," she promised, voice laced with heartache._

"_Pick a gun," Tyson insisted. "Last chance."_

_He was terrified of what Tyson would do if he didn't, maybe more so than the possibility of losing his wife. As soon as he indicated the gun in the middle, Tyson pushed it into his hands. "You pull the trigger, Rick. Put it right between her eyes," he directed, shoving Kate back to him. _

_Oh, God._

"_If you don't, I'll put the other two guns to her head and pull both triggers. I'm sure you can do the math." With two guns, Kate had no chance._

_A sob wrenched its way from his throat. "Rick, it's okay. It's okay. I'll be okay," Kate murmured, cradling his jaw. She shouldn't be comforting him now. The thought only made his chest tighter, blood pounding in his ears. "I love you," she croaked, taking the gun from him. She placed over where her scar would be and threaded their fingers together._

"_I love you," she said again, never breaking eye contact._

_She pulled the trigger._

Half an hour after he woke up, he was still hunched over the bathroom sink scrubbing her blood from his hands.


End file.
